


best believe this is not a metaphor

by thegatorgood



Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22231792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegatorgood/pseuds/thegatorgood
Summary: Michelle slammed her tray down on the lunch table.  "Meghan O'Malley's been telling everyone she thinks you're a shit girlfriend, Erin," she said, and ripped open a bag of crisps.
Relationships: Clare Devlin/Erin Quinn
Comments: 13
Kudos: 152
Collections: CLOSE ENOUGH FEBRUARY 2020





	best believe this is not a metaphor

**Author's Note:**

> For the fake dating square. Title from Lonely Island's "Punch You in the Jeans."

Michelle slammed her tray down on the lunch table. "Meghan O'Malley's been telling everyone she thinks you're a shit girlfriend, Erin," she said, and ripped open a bag of crisps.

"What?" said Erin. "I'm not even dating Meghan O'Malley. I'm barely even speaking to her. What gives her the right to judge me as a girlfriend?"

"Dunno." Meghan O'Malley was the new girl, sounded like a bad joke, was--in Michelle's opinion, most definitely--a bad joke, but that was mostly because she'd first mistaken James for Michelle's boyfriend and not all the groveling in the world was going to get Michelle to ever forgive that. "Seems she thinks you should be holding Clare's hand in the halls or something. Says that's what boys do for their girlfriends back at her old school in Massachusetts."

And she'd come from a school with both boys and girls. She'd used the term "mixed-sex" and the s-e-x of it all had scandalized Jenny Joyce to no end. But also tantalized, because now it was like Jenny Joyce was her best friend. And that was one more reason to dislike her, in Michelle's opinion, and Erin concurred heartily. "But I'm not even Clare's girlfriend," said Erin, and then hoped she hadn't said that too loudly, because loads of people thought she was. She'd taken Clare to prom and all. "Besides, what does it matter, if I'm good at it or not?"

"Well," said James, "if there are other lesbians at school and they see you treating Clare badly, then maybe they'll think that when they date her, they can treat her badly without any consequences."

Michelle rounded on James. "And what would you know about it, anyway?"

James went slightly pink. "I'm treated badly all the time," he said, all wounded dignity, but Erin didn't care. She couldn't have the other lesbians treating Clare badly. It'd be a rubbish friend who let the other lesbians treat Clare badly. And Erin wasn't a rubbish friend or a rubbish girlfriend, so when Clare and Orla finally got to the table, Erin grabbed Clare's hand.

Clare blinked at her in surprise and was about to say something when Michelle said, "So what took you two so long then?"

"Orla asked for the vegetarian option," said Clare. Her hand was very smooth and warm.

"We have a vegetarian option?"

"Yes," said Orla dreamily. "They open the sandwich and throw out the slice of ham." She seemed quite pleased with her cheese sandwich.

By now Erin had realized that stretching her arm out across the table to hold Clare's hand wasn't very comfortable and also it wasn't easy to eat with only the one hand, but she'd be damned if she let Meghan O'Malley tell everyone she was a bad girlfriend and let everyone go around thinking Clare didn't deserve a good girlfriend. "We should go out after school," she told Clare, putting down her own sandwich so she could pick up her napkin and wipe her mouth.

"But we do go out after school," said Clare.

"I meant just the two of us," said Erin. Her voice was getting sort of weird and deep, husky like she was trying to pretend to be a man, although of course she shouldn't, because Clare wouldn't be into that sort of thing. "It's been too long since we've had a proper date."

"What?" said Clare, and Erin had to half-stand up, half-crouch, half-lean over the table to peck at her cheek and say that she'd explain later, only that was a full three halves and her elbow banged James's milk on the way back and sent it skidding across the table and Clare had the hand that Erin wasn't holding now pressed to her cheek and she was a bit pink and looked like Erin had slapped, not kissed, her.

-

Over cream buns, Clare said, "What's this about, Erin?"

Erin had found out earlier how difficult it was to eat while holding hands across a table, but she was still doing it, putting her tea down to pick up the bun, and then putting her bun down to pick up the tea. And the buns here were dry. "Meghan O'Malley's been going around saying I'm not a good girlfriend to you," she explained, after dislodging stray pastry from her cheek and nearly choking on it. 

"But you're not my girlfriend," said Clare.

"I know that, and you know that, but Meghan O'Malley doesn't know that. And I did take you to prom."

"But no one thinks I'm your girlfriend, Erin," said Clare.

Erin was gobsmacked. "I took you to prom!" she repeated. "And anyway, Meghan thinks I'm your girlfriend, and she's telling everyone I'm not a good girlfriend, and--and I don't want people to think you don't deserve a good girlfriend."

Clare sighed. "But you haven't done anything about any or all of Michelle's crap boyfriends."

"That's different."

"How is it different?"

For one thing, Michelle could always get another, but lesbians were in short supply in Derry. There was only Clare, poor girl, but she wouldn't want to hear about it, she was so sensitive about all the lesbian business. For another, Michelle was definitely a crap girlfriend. Michelle'd forgot her boyfriends' names before because she didn't consider them important. "Because they're boys, that's how." She drew her shoulders and head back. "I'm going to set a standard, so people know you deserve only the best."

'What," said Clare, "like outing me to the entire school and not even getting me a corsage?"

"That was the old Erin," said Erin. "The new Erin is taking you to the cinema this weekend to see that film you like."

-

Erin had been very much intending to take Clare to see an artistic film full of romance and culture, but they weren't old enough to be let into the only one the theater was playing, and besides, Clare wanted to see _Clueless_.

"It's based on Jane Austen," she said.

Erin didn't see what a bunch of rich Hollywood girls in lots of fancy outfits was supposed to say about their lives, but she was being an exemplary girlfriend, so she didn't say anything, and she bought the snacks. Turning around from the concession stand, she almost ran into Meghan O'Malley's stupid freckled face.

"What're you doing here?" Erin blurted out. She wasn't so paranoid as to think she was being policed for her girlfriending skills, but what if she was being policed for her girlfriending skills? She didn't like it one bit.

"I'm here to see a movie," said Meghan O'Malley. "That's what you go to the movie theater for, isn't it?"

"Maybe I just like the Raisinets." Erin's hands were full of sweets and two drinks, or she might have made a rude gesture. "But for your information, I'm here to see a film with Clare. On a date."

That made Meghan O'Malley grimace like she had some sort of problem with Erin not being a bad girlfriend now. "Me and Jenny and Thea and Lucinda are going to watch the new _Ace Ventura_."

"Isn't that the fella who spends all his films making strange faces?" Erin asked, with a grimace of her own. "I don't know why anyone would pay good money to watch that."

And before Meghan O'Malley could answer, Erin barged through the crush to get to Clare, who didn't seem all that impressed. "Did you know they were going to be here?" she hissed. 

If Erin had known Meghan O'Malley and Jenny Joyce and their lot were going to be here, she certainly wouldn't have come here the same day. "Of course I didn't. And anyway, it's the last we'll see of them, they're over in the other theater, watching the dumb film."

Clare didn't look like she completely believed Erin, which wasn't fair. Erin wasn't doing this for an audience.

"I got us malt balls," said Erin, "and Chiclets, and Cokes. Let's go in and get our seats."

Clare was still staring after Jenny's group, looking put out. 

"We could sneak into the arty film," offered Erin. "The one with the period costumes and Hugh Grant half-naked--"

"We're going to see _Clueless_ ," Clare insisted, and so they did.

It wasn't half bad, Erin had to admit. A lot more fun than the arty film would've been. Not long into it she did that faux-casual stretch that fellas did, her arm landing over Clare's shoulder and flicking a maltball into the back of some tosser's head. (He clapped a hand to it, looking around wildly; Erin lay her head back against the seat, the very picture of perfect innocence.) Clare went a bit tense at first, but as the film progressed, she relaxed into Erin's arm. Erin had put her arm around her friend's shoulder plenty of times before. Of course it had been as friends, not as girlfriends, or fake girlfriends, but it was comfortable, and it was familiar, and Erin kept it around Clare's shoulder on their way out. They didn't run into Meghan O'Malley on the way out, so Meghan didn't see what a good date Erin had taken Clare on, but it didn't matter. It was a perfect afternoon, and Clare even let her hold her hand on the way home. Which was grand, because walking with only the one hand was much easier than eating with only one.

-

Erin was fairly sure things were going well. She carried Clare's books, and sat next to her when the nuns would let them, and once even kicked off her shoe and was about to run her stocking feet over Clare's calves when she saw Sister Michael about to enter the library and panicked and kicked the chair leg instead and spent the rest of the day hobbling about. Clare seemed less annoyed with Erin's girlfriending attempts that day, helping her manage with one arm around Erin's waist and the occasional giggle when she remembered Erin had kicked a chair.

Meghan O'Malley'd looked more sour than ever, though.

"I don't know what's twisted her kickers," said Erin. "First she's judging me for a bad girlfriend, and now she's judging me for being a good one."

"You're still not her girlfriend," Michelle pointed out.

"But I'd be a really good one if I were," said Erin. "Right, Clare?"

"Leave off, Erin, I'm trying to study for tomorrow's test."

Michelle grinned. "And that answers that."

"Oh, come on, Clare," said Erin. "You can study with me tonight. I aced the last geography quiz."

"Could I really?" asked Clare, brightening.

"Anything, any time," Erin promised grandly. "And anyway, I don't see why Meghan O'Malley has to appoint herself the protective saint of all the wee lesbians. You'd think she'd have enough trouble, being a ginger."

"Aye," said Orla, slathering mustard on a de-sausaged roll. "It's hard out there for a ginger."

-

Clare held Erin's hand all the way back to her house, and then dropped it when Erin began to tug her past the living room and towards her bedroom. 

"I don't see why we can't study at the kitchen table," said Clare, "like we usually do."

"Because we're dating," said Erin. She rolled over on the bed to face Clare. "We don't want to be 'studying' in front of my parents." She hoped the face she made when she said studying conveyed what they were actually going to be doing.

Clare sighed and put her book on the bed, then tugged off her shoes. "We're not dating for real, though. And if we were your ma wouldn't let us be shut away in your bedroom."

She had a fair point there, but Erin wasn't entirely sure if her mother knew about the lesbians. Her mother must have known about sexual intercourse, because Erin existed, and Erin had a little sister and the angels definitely hadn't brought _her_ , but that was all Erin was willing to concede. "We can go back to the kitchen table if you want," she said. "But then Orla won't have any gossip about how the two of us were snogging when we were supposed to be revising for French."

Clare's shoe dropped. "We're not seriously going to be snogging?" she asked, her voice up an octave.

"We can if you like. Give the whole business a bit of verisimilitude."

Clare shook her head. "You don't want to snog me, Erin. Besides, Orla reads your diary."

Erin propped up her head on one hand, put the other on her hip like she was one of those bikini models. From the way Clare was looking at her, she must have been doing it wrong, but it was too late to back down. "Who says I don't want to snog you? Tangentially, I've been writing fake entries in my diary about us kissing."

"You are too much." Clare sank into the bed next to her. It wasn't a big bed and Erin could feel the heat radiating through her school uniform. Verisimilitude. "We could just mess up each other's hair, like."

"Then it just looks like we've messed up our hair," said Erin. "Real kissing involves flushed cheeks and bitten lips and," she searched her memory for phrases from Aunt Sarah's illicit romance novels, "pupils blown wide open."

"I don't know," said Clare, worrying her own lip with her top teeth. "Some of that sounds painful."

Erin was glad she hadn't added the bit about tongues dueling for dominance, then. "It's all very romantic. Here," and she got a grip on Clare's hair, "I'll show you."

She leaned in for the kiss. Her lips touched Clare's, and that wasn't half bad. Her teeth touched Clare's, which was. Erin thought she might try to remedy that with a bit of tongue, but she hadn't even started to lick or thrust or any of those other verbs from her aunt's forbidden books, when Clare let out an almighty scream, shoved her away, and ran out of the room. 

"Wait!" Erin yelled, running after, and nearly slammed into Orla, who was lurking in the hall and eating ice cream.

"She went that way." Orla indicated with her spoon, not moving it at all far from the bowl in case it dripped on the floor and Ma had a meltdown. The ice cream was pink. Strawberry. Erin felt a sudden surge of anger at Orla for standing there and eating strawberry ice cream while Erin's girlfriend ran off screaming into the night. "You should work on your technique, as long as you're trying to be a better girlfriend."

"And what would you know about my technique?" Erin snarled.

Orla ate another spoonful of ice cream. "Your diary doesn't do you any favors," she said. "Poor Clare. It must be like going to the dentist, only with twice the saliva."

It wasn't, Erin wanted to protest. She'd never had any complaints from either of the two boys she'd kissed. Maybe Clare didn't like her style of kissing. Did lesbians kiss differently? She didn't think Aunt Sarah had any books on that. "Get out of my way," she told Orla. If she hurried, maybe she could catch up with Clare. "And stop reading my diary!"

Clare hadn't got far. She might have, if Erin had stopped to put on shoes, but she hadn't, and she caught Clare's arm.

"Stop it!" said Clare, and Erin saw, with utter horror, that she'd been crying.

"I'm sorry," said Erin. "I didn't mean--"

Clare tried to tug away again. Erin wanted to hug her, so she tried, but Clare broke free and stood facing her and Erin couldn't bear it suddenly, it was pure torture, knowing she'd made Clare cry. "Maybe you didn't," she said. "Maybe you didn't, but that's what it's like for you, not what it's like for me. Can you even imagine--" She stopped herself with a hiccough. "But that's beside the point. You're so focused on being my fake girlfriend that you're forgetting to be my friend."

"I wouldn't want to be your girlfriend if I wasn't your friend," Erin protested. "Surely you know that, Clare."

"I don't know what I know anymore!" cried Clare. "And I still haven't finished studying for my exam!" And with that, she pulled away, and ran off into the night.

-

"So," said Erin at school the next day. Clare had walked by herself, her ma'd said. Wanted to get in early to study some more. But Erin suspected Clare didn't want to walk with her, not after last night. "How'd you do on the exam?"

The morning'd been gray and pissing down rain, but thankfully Orla hadn't said a damn thing about last night, so Erin didn't feel any worse. Michelle and James had argued about Michelle's hangover the whole way, and as they got to school, Orla had leaned over and kissed Erin on the cheek. "It'll get better," she had said, before flitting off. Orla had always been a strange one.

When Erin had looked up again, Meghan O'Malley'd been staring at her. "And what are you looking at?"

"Are you no longer going out with Clare Devlin, then?" Meghan had demanded, twisting some of her ginger hair around one finger. "Since you're getting kisses from strange girls and all."

"That's my cousin, you watch your mouth," Erin had said, "and what business is it of yours, who I'm kidding?"

Meghan O'Malley had grimaced, but Erin had barged past her into school before she could reply. It wasn't any of her business! It was Erin's business, and Clare's business, and maybe Orla's business because Orla couldn't keep her nose out of Erin's diary, but at least Orla meant them no harm. Meghan O'Malley was more sour and judgmental than Sister Mary Peters, who told everyone they were going to hell, often for the pettiest of reasons. There was nothing in the Bible against denim jackets. Erin had checked.

She'd wanted to go to Clare straightaway, but had made herself not. It wasn't like Erin didn't know that Clare had other things going on in her life, only Erin had got carried away with dating Clare, and had expected that Clare'd got caught up in it too. 

And that was dumb, because why would Clare be caught up in it? She probably didn't think she needed protecting. She probably didn't think she needed a fake girlfriend. She'd got along fine without one before. And Erin, well. Erin winced. She wasn't the best of fake girlfriends. She didn't know any fake girlfriends to measure herself against, but after last night, she was sure she was far from the best.

So she'd waited until after school was out, and she asked how Clare had done on the exam.

"Terrible," Clare said. "No thanks to you."

"I know," said Erin. "Look, we need to talk."

Clare did look. She looked at Erin warily, like Erin was an exam she'd also not prepared for. "About what?"

"About us." Erin motioned Clare off the path, towards a low wall. Clare took a moment before following, but she did follow, and she sat herself next to Erin, but gingerly, like a cat that'd startle at the next loud noise. Erin took a deep breath to prepare herself for what she was about to say, but also to stall for time, and Clare flinched. "I don't think we should pretend to be dating anymore."

Clare didn't look very surprised. "What's his name?"

"What?"

"The fella you're into now," said Clare. "Is it Seamus?"

"Seamus?" Erin knew three boys named Seamus and the thought of fancying any of them was revolting. "No, it's not Seamus."

"Is it Paul?"

"Who--Clare," said Erin, as she realized what Clare meant, and felt indignant that she thought so little of Erin, particularly because Erin had very nearly not gone to prom with Clare so she could go with a boy instead. "I think we shouldn't pretend to be dating anymore because I want to date you, like, for real."

"Is it--you what?"

Erin had been working it over since approximately last night. She knew she'd liked dating Clare, and she knew she'd been upset when Clare had run away instead of kissing her, and she knew she should have done better, maybe that she shouldn't have dumped this on Clare while Clare was still upset about last night and the exam, but. "Will you be my girlfriend, Clare?"

"Meghan O'Malley tried to kiss me," Clare blurted out.

Erin reared back, shocked, and then outraged, and then a little confused, and then outraged again. Meghan O'Malley was a lesbian? There were two of them at school? And now Meghan thought it was acceptable to treat Clare badly? If she ever tried, if she ever dared, to lay one finger on Clare--

"She was talking to Jenny Joyce and Jenny apparently told her you weren't really a lesbian and we were just friends, so she came up to me at break and she tried to kiss me."

"So," said Erin, even though she was currently having trouble with the very concept of words. "So what you're saying is that you want to be seeing Meghan O'Malley, then?"

"Of course I don't!" said Clare. "I panicked and I headbutted her and then I ran to religious studies."

Erin, greatly relieved and also wishing she could have seen that, put an arm around Clare. She supposed that was where they'd all assumed wrong. Clare could take care of herself. "Must have been terrifying. She talked to me this morning and I think she had egg salad in her teeth. At eight in the morning. Who's eating egg salad at eight in the morning?"

Clare gave a shaky laugh. "It's for the best I didn't kiss her, then."

"Can I kiss you?" Erin asked. She remembered what Clare said about Erin needing to be a good friend as well as a good girlfriend, and also she didn't want to be headbutted. 

Clare squeaked. "Maybe not, after the day I've had. But like. Maybe later?" She took Erin's hand. "I did like dating you, apart from last night. It would have been nicer if it'd been real."

"I'm sorry," Erin said, and she was. "I know you wanted to study, and Orla says I hsould be less aggressive in my kissing technique."

"Have you been kissing Orla? I know Michelle says cousins don't count, but--"

"She's been reading my diary." Erin definitely did not want to kiss Orla. "I was pretending we did kiss." She took a deep breath. "I think I want to kiss. But I'll wait until you're not so aggravated."

Clare squeaked again and took Erin's hand, squeezed it. "Thanks," she said. "I don't want to hurt you, Erin."

"Ah, it's all right." Erin squeezed her hand back, picturing a bloody-nosed Meghan O'Malley roaming the school's halls, and smiled. "You want to get tea?"

"Not really," said Clare, and settled her head on Erin's shoulder. "This is grand, just being here."

And it was, Erin thought. It was.


End file.
